it back like he had been doing.

He started calming down, with the shaking becoming just a slight vibration.  I gave him more food, which he took, then some syrup-water, which was just warm water with some syrup diluted in it.  He took some of that, but then turned away, letting me know that he couldn't really take any more.

Some time during the evening, he was able to urinate into the towel, so I know he wasn't too full of fluids.  However he hadn't had a bowel movement in more than 8 hours and I was becoming concerned.  I felt his thinning belly and didn't find any masses, so I thought maybe, since most of the food I was giving him was liquid, that his body was using any remaining solids for nutrition.

Several times, I picked him up and held him, looking into his eyes.  He would stare right at me, as though asking me to keep working to save him.  I felt so bad that I couldn't just give him a shot or a dose of medicine and make him all better.  I kept beating myself up, for not knowing exactly what to do to fix him.
At about 3 a.m., he appeared to finally be trying to relax.  He wasn't shaking any more, but he still tried to stretch his head back.  He was completely warm, so I thought that, if I put him back in his cage with his three other cage-mates, inside his sleep sack, they would keep him warm.  They all seemed to know that keeping him warm was necessary, as I always found him buried under the rest each morning.

While he was on the couch, the other ferrets would come up and gently check on him.  It was so touching that they didn't try to disturb him.  There is no question that they knew he wasn't going to last long and they just wanted to say their good-byes.